Personal Narrative: Learning From Little Luke

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

I, Deputy Gough received a call reference a white Ford truck driving in the Gamester trailer court all over the roadway. Upon my arrival I spoke with David Vore and Jennifer Vore. Jennifer Stated that Randy was the driver of the white Ford truck that said, “All Good Construction.” David and Jennifer both stated that they saw the truck drive through the yard hitting a slow child at play sign and the stop sign.

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

I cannot believe it took one person to destroy me, one person to discard all of my trust for anyone. One person to make me forget who my real friends were. One person to banish me to the deepest parts of my mind. One person to make me think that I’m not worthy of anything. One person to be so ignorant as to make me think it was all my fault. That one person, under that pretty little face is called Ashley Melgar. From here on out we’ll call her “Little A.” Little A was a curious tale of my not so great past. Boyfriend and all, I still continued to fall for her lies and manipulation. My mind was clouded and there was no way to clear my vision. In my head she was a damaged soul with a fucked up boyfriend; in reality she was a fucked up soul with

Throughout the conversation, Susan did not inform me that the home was still in First Look and not open to investors at this time. Susan did not highlight any features of the home, nor did she talk about the neighborhood or the surrounding area. When asked, Susan paused to reference the property file and stated, "In looking at the pictures it appears that it needs interior paint, carpet, appliances, and a few windows, which the previous seller must have taken." She stated, "I don't know why they have to remove things from the homes." I asked, "Do you have offers?" She paused to check the property file and answered, "No offers." I asked, "Is the property behind the home farmland?" She paused to reference the property file and replied, "It appears

“Hey you want to drive”, my step-dad yelled over the loud engine of blue grizzly 4x4 quad I yelled “yes!!”, so as I got one the quad I put on my helmet and fased the strap on the same color helmet.

I am a first generation child to have been born in my family, the first generation who is about to graduate high school and the first generation to go to a college and succeed in life.

Watching her coffin sink into the abyss beneath my feet sent me into hysterics. Tears streamed down my face like a ferocious river escaping a dam. I’d come to the realization that I had never lived my life without her. What would I do? It is obvious to me now that I inadvertently disrupted the entire service with my loud sobbing, but in that moment of time, it was the only thing I could do.

When my eyes roll open it immediately surges through my being. The insatiable desire to get more of V. My body groans, feelings as though it was thrashed by wild animals. My mind fighting to function it feels like it’s just moving through molasses. I feel like I had my heart broken thousands of times over. I go onto procure my day’s first taste of V. I get the first taste of it very early in my morning the mere taste allows my body to untighten. My mind feels a great clarity surge through it. My heart set back at ease. These feelings though, amazing, are short lived as V clears from my system.

A long time ago back in Alton where I used to live there was going to be a big change for me. I was little didn't remember much, but i do remember the move van. I remember the men carrying my things rom the car to the house. Me and my father were standing out side, he got me villanelle ice cream and I was trying to make it last on that hot summer day. “Dad why did we leave our home?” I asked with ice cream running down my hand. H said “ We didn’t leave our home, home is where your family is.” I realized that day that we didn't leave our home, home is where you make it.

Luke finds himself in a park, guitar in hand. After a good hour of playing, his attention strays. There is a family across from him. A man, probably in his twenties, a woman around the same age and a young child playing frisbee with their dog. The desires for a family of his own come flooding back to him. Luke can’t help but grieve for what could have been.

I’ve always felt like I don’t matter. I walked into my house when I growing up and instantly I was on my own. My mother would go through depressive episodes where she lock herself away from for days and when she came out, she was a shell of herself. I lived without love. She’d go through weeks of boyfriends and one by one I’d see them come and go. Only one stayed, but he was the worst. I’d wake up sometimes to him breaking plates or shouting drunkenly. My father died before I knew him and this was the only thing I had close to a father. He’d scream and yell and his roar sent me shivering back. He’d break me down and belittle me. To him I was just a disappointment. I wish it was different. I wish I could do something. The New School is my place

The big idea project was nice because we could do anything and use any type of media that we wanted to in order to fight well with our “big idea”. I picked a picture of a beautiful night sky and photoshopped a shadow of a person standing and staring at some constellations that I also photoshopped in. I first sketched out what I thought the proportions should be by just eyeing it out and using hand. I then decided that oil pastels would work perfectly for my picture, which I preferred over soft pastels. I tried to mix together different values and colors of blue in order to make to night sky look more realistic and have depth to it which, I think turned out pretty nice. To make the water look more textured I usually started with a dark blue

To me, a good story has an interesting plot, complex characters, supporting details, and, of course, proper grammar and spelling. I usually get lost in a good book and can tell that I’m really enjoying a story when I feel I’m in the world the author creates. When I look up, back to reality, I want to return straight away. I always look forward to continuing the story and never want it to end.

I was never particularly fond of high school English courses, actually not very interested in reading and writing about any subjects at all. I’m more of a visual and tactile/kinesthetic learner. I’ve always preferred visual aids, diagrams, and active exploration of the world. Heck, I just like to touch and tinker with things to gain the necessary knowledge needed to perform a specific task. Reading and writing requires patience and an independent learning style that does not favor my cognitive learning style. As I continued to grow wiser and older my managerial requirments have forced me down the road of administration leadership. More powerpoint briefs, white papers, and continuous emails have largerly consumed my daily work routine. Taking